


Favourite Things

by anonstarbuck



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonstarbuck/pseuds/anonstarbuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Mulder and Scully shared a favourite something with the other for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Position

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storybycorey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storybycorey/gifts).



> Thanks to @storybycorey for taking my skeleton writing and helping me give it some meat and heat. You’ve been an awesome beta and have guided me through this fascinating smut-writing hell which you’re so good at. 
> 
> Also. It’s the first time I’ve ever written anything resembling smut. It’s hard. Please be gentle.

They’d slept with each other only a couple of times, revelling in both the newness and the comfort of it all, even from the very beginning. His hand on her lower back guiding her onwards, her fingers squeezing his wrist in reassurance-- these and other gestures had been translated easily from fully-dressed in hallways to naked and panting in the bedroom. 

If he closed his eyes, he could see his thumb covering the curve of her hipbone, his hands circling the entirety of her waist. He’d been closing his eyes with increasing frequency. 

Like the rest of their relationship, the slide from partners to something more had been a leisurely, gradual process. Scully wasn’t accustomed to the size of him. He’d touched his forehead to hers and inched his way inside her, painfully and slowly, while she’d clutched at his hair like the reins of a runaway horse. He’d marvelled at how her hands, so gentle and considerate when she doctored him, could transform in the bedroom, becoming surprisingly possessive and feral. It sent sharp jolts of desire to his groin. When he stood in the shower, he loved the sting of hot water as it slid on the crescent moons that her nails left between his shoulder blades and on the globes of his ass. It was just like them, for him to mark her as his own with slight touches in public, and she, in return, to brand him as hers with urgent, fervent imprints in the dark. 

 

Since the first time they’d tumbled between the sheets, gasping with pleasure, he’d noticed a slight difference in her. She stood taller, more self-assured. Her heels were suddenly sky-high and stilettoed, her skirts tighter and wonderfully less practical. To his delight, she had started to ignore the top buttons of her blouse, which now opened to a taunting level just above the rolling swell of her breasts. He couldn’t help but stare and he knew by the constant crossing and uncrossing of her legs that she enjoyed the attention she was receiving. She also seemed to enjoy taunting him. Lately, she’d been bringing fruit to the basement, mostly strawberries, and she’d wrap her lips around the berries and suck at their sugary sweetness, nibble the tips and lap at the juices tricking down her wrist with long, careful licks. When she wasn’t mouth-fucking food, she kept disappearing on him, tormenting him with what felt like deliberate absence.

Like the weekend, for instance. He hadn’t seen her since Friday. She’d gone for the weekend to her mother’s, who’d had a bad cold. Mulder had called her briefly, to see how Maggie was doing, but given Scully’s somewhat laconic answers, he realised that Maggie was in the room with her, and she didn’t feel comfortable speaking freely. He had spent most of Saturday working, with movies (that weren’t his) playing softly in the background. When the moans were loud enough to be distracting, he’d taken a break, and imagined the star as a small-framed redhead with big, inscrutable eyes. By Sunday he was counting the minutes to be in the office with her again. 

When his alarm had woken him up that morning, he had looked up at the ceiling, stretched easily and wondered what the day with her would bring. The promise of her presence had sent him straight to the shower and he’d taken the time to choos a tie he knew she liked on him. Today, he leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully sucking on a sunflower seed while he watched her make careful notes on her latest autopsy report. She was rubbing the back of her neck, using the pads of her fingers to knead the muscles in practiced circles. Mulder inhaled sharply as he had a flash of her using those same fingers to touch herself, legs spread slightly in the semi-darkness, her eyes never breaking contact with his while he sat, transfixed, from the other side of the room. 

He was suddenly overcome with a surge of courage. “Hey Scully,” he called out, almost before he’d realised it. 

“Yes, Mulder?” she replied, more as a statement than a question, without looking up.

“What’s your favourite position?”

At first he thought she hadn’t heard him or that she was ignoring his question in the name of professional rectitude. She hadn’t stopped writing. It was only when she looked up and he saw the flush of colour on her breastbone that he knew she had heard the question and had understood exactly to what he was referring. He’d learned recently that Scully’s blush of embarrassment was the exact same shade of pink as her blush of arousal. That little tidbit had made him revisit all of his memories of her when she had seemed embarrassed and made him wonder if, in fact, she had actually been turned on instead. 

She set the pen down, looked at him square in the eye, and told him simply: “I like it from behind.”

Mulder’s mouth went dry in seconds. Before he could wrestle a glib retort from the cotton in his mouth, she asked, “Yours?” She’d picked up her pen again, nonchalantly writing while waiting for his answer, a sphinx-like smile playing on her lips. 

Mulder cleared his throat suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious. This was a conversation he’d never imagined having with her and it felt sexy and surreal. He spoke, directing his answer to his desk, eyeing her through his eyelashes. “Scully, for years, I’ve imagined you riding me while I sit on a chair.” 

Her sharp intake of breath was hardly perceptible except for the slight heaving in her chest. She exhaled slowly and her tongue flicked over her lower lip. “And am I facing you, Mulder? Or is my back to you?” 

Mulder thought he would fall off his chair. Of all the fucking follow-up questions this was the last he’d seen coming. He felt himself harden and tried to look unflustered. His voice dropped to a husky baritone and he murmured softly, “Facing me. Eye to eye.”

Scully crossed her legs and pushed a strand of hair away from her face offhandedly, but she had closed her eyes and Mulder could see that her breath was jagged and her thigh muscles were clenching against each other. The conversation was clearly having an effect on her, which she was trying to hide. They didn’t speak, and when she finally opened her eyes, there was a fiery glint in them. Her voice was rich and sultry, reminiscent of the Costa Rican jungle, when she whispered “Come here, Mulder.”

“Scully?” he faltered.

“It won’t work with a chair that has arm rests. Come here. And lock the door.” Her breath was steady now, as she studied him through hooded lids. She rose from her chair, and stood, strangely statuesque. She waited. Mulder swallowed hard, feeling fourteen years old again, pushed into a closet with the girl next door, expected to provide her 7 Minutes in Heaven. He was light-headed and his blood had rushed south. 

He stood up, acutely aware of the bulge in his work trousers, turned the lock, and made his way towards her. She watched his approach, her eyes flickering from his face to his hardened cock, her eyes dark with appreciation. She motioned to her chair, “Sit.”   
He tried to read her, but besides the glimmer in her eyes, her face was set and impassive. Her self-possession had always turned him on to no end. 

Feeling like a well-trained dog, Mulder followed orders and sat gingerly on the chair, his hands resting on his thighs, knuckles white in anticipation. The room buzzed with silence and he was aware of how he was trying, and failing, to still his ragged breathing. He could smell her-- the almond in her soap and the honey in her shampoo. Both blended with the cocoa in her moisturiser and mingled in the air with the smell of that which was purely Scully, a scent he had learned only recently when he’d pressed his nose against her wet slit and inhaled deeply for the very first time. 

Scully bent over towards him and placed her hands on either knee, spreading his legs so that she could fit between them. She knelt, as if in prayer, and looked up at him. He stared back in reverence. They studied each other’s faces while she unfastened the top button of his pants and inched his zipper down. After what felt like the longest unzipping of his life, he helped her by shifting his hips, and she pulled down his trousers and boxers. She rested her hands on his thighs and squeezed, and when she looked at the length of him, he could tell she was still dazed by its girth. As a way of greeting, she used her tongue to work her way from his base to the tip and he closed his eyes and groaned when her tongue swirled at the head. But then, much to his disappointment, she stood up. 

The letdown was short-lived when he saw that she was unzipping the side of her skirt, exposing red lace underneath, and he hissed snakelike with appreciation and incredulity. The skirt pooled at her feet as she stepped out of it, black heels, red lace, and what seemed like miles of ivory between the two. He grabbed the back of her legs, thumbs on her thighs and fingers squeezing the soft skin beneath her ass. He moved a hand to cup her entrance and stroked her softly while she almost imperceptibly rotated her hips over the palm of his hand. She was ready, dripping wet, and his cock quivered in anticipation. 

He moved to take off her underwear, but she shook her head and placed her legs outside his, her breasts level with his face. He placed his nose against her skin and breathed her in while she unbuttoned her blouse, exposing more red lace underneath. He felt feverish and she felt cool under his touch. She looked cool as well, and collected, while she slowly sat on his lap inches from his erection, and leaned in to kiss him with surprising tenderness. With one hand she took his cock and squeezed it, and with the other she slid her panties to one side while guiding him to her anteroom, which felt feverish with heat. Using her heels as leverage, she slowly lowered herself on him, allowing her muscles to strain and stretch around his erection and gazed at his lips as he opened them in a silent moan. 

She wasn’t rocking or grinding against him. Instead, she was using her thigh muscles to pull up to his tip to then plummet back down again to the hilt. Occasionally, she’d stay there at the head, fucking him only an inch or two in, and he grunted with exhilaration and frustration. 

He cupped her ass trying to urge her down again, but she shook her head a second time, took his hands and placed them on her breasts while she continued to tease him into a frenzy, his back slick with sweat. He slid his fingers under the material of her bra and roughly pinched her right nipple, partially because he knew she liked it, and partially because he felt like punishing her for this torture. The sound of their sweaty bodies slapping against each other soon became too much to handle and he whimpered, “Oh my God, Scully. Please. Please.” 

He squeezed her breast as if it were a lifeline. Sensing his desperation and close to orgasm herself, she finally relented, plunging down on him over and over again, slippery and filled to the brim with the length of him. “Scully….” he rasped in warning, “I’m getting close.” 

Scully felt a new wave of lust rush through her body. She loved what she could do to him. “Come for me, Mulder. Let me see you come.” She was impatient to watch him lose himself to her. She loved leaving herself on the edge of release by delaying gratification. It made her ache and stay wet for the rest of the day. It made her feel powerful. Releasing her breasts, he took a hold of her hips and started sliding her up and down his shaft forcefully until he felt a groan rising from the back of his throat. He tossed his head back and felt himself explode inside of her and recognised a long moan as his own. She stared at his beautiful face as she clamped her muscles around him, milking his orgasm until it came to a stop. He had no sensation left in in his legs and his hands shook as he pulled her forward to embrace her, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat. 

“Scully, I want you to…” he panted 

“Later.” she whispered, raking her hand through his hair. She smiled and wiggled playfully on his lap before disentangling herself from him. She couldn’t tell him how she likes to tease herself into a frenzy and stay in soaking wet panties until she can’t think straight. That these panties were drenched for him and because of him. She wasn’t sure how to explain to him that this was a power play, that she gets off when she is in control, but that she is ultimately surrendering her orgasms to him. Above all, she is certain that she lacks the words to tell him that she is in love with him, that she has been for years. 

“You can bend me over on your desk, or have me on all fours in your bed—you decide.” 

Mulder closed his eyes in lust and disbelief. He never, not in his life, thought he’d get to know this side of her: sexual, empowered, domineering. He couldn’t believe his luck. He wanted to spend every waking part of his life learning her, loving her. 

He looked up at her and his voice came out in a throaty plea, “Can we do both?” 

“Of course, Mulder,” she answered, looking exquisite in dark red lace, glistening with sensuality and the salt of his sweat . She beamed, pleased, and leaned in to lick the pout of his lower lip. “It is after all, my favourite position.”


	2. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully tells Mulder about a childhood memory. A first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to build @storybycorey a beta shrine. You’ve kept me honest. You’ve made me a [better writer]. Thank you.

_y a la mesa_  
_lleguen recién casados_  
_los sabores_  
_del mar y de la tierra_  
_para que en ese plato_  
_tú conozcas el cielo_

They were half naked and doing the dishes when she told him the story; and upon hearing it, he knew with absolute certainty that one day he would marry this woman.

After eating dinner, they had ended up on her bedroom floor, incapable of making it to the bed in the urgency that comes with a newly budding relationship. Mulder’s back and Scully’s knees were flushed with friction.

Rather than getting dressed again, she slipped on his work shirt, a sky-blue cotton that brought out her eyes and hung loosely, grazing the curve of her ass cheeks. She padded barefoot to the kitchen and started reaching for the dishes. The shirt made her look petite and doll-like, and he couldn’t help but catch her on the way to the sink, turning her around and lifting her up against his bare chest so that they were face to face. She wrapped her legs around him and nuzzled his neck, breathing in the woodsy musk of sweat and sex.

“You know, Mulder,” she warned, “I used to pound on boys who’d try to lift me when I was growing up.”

“Hmmm,” he mumbled into her neck, “Are you going to pound on me, Scully?” He gave her ass a warm squeeze, appreciating the hard muscle beneath the silk of her skin. “It would only be fair, being that I just pounded into you…twice.”

She gasped, mocking insult, and swatted his bare back as one would an annoying fly. One hand was still hooked lazily around his neck. “Mulder!” she squealed.

She shifted her weight to cling to him more tightly. “I honestly didn’t want anything to do with those boys. At all. You, on the other hand…” she teased, lightly tracing the back of his neck with her fingernails, “I rather like you.”

Mulder smiled into her hair, relishing the love he sensed in her bantering. He felt it bloom warmly in his chest, never imagining he could ever feel this kind of mirth again. She rubbed the balls of her feet on the backs of his thighs, signalling it was time to put her down. He released her, and she slithered tightly down his body as closely as possible, like raindrops sliding along a pane of glass, until she was level with his chest. She sighed happily while he kissed her crown, his lips lingering at her silky hairline.

She explained, “Boys sometimes assume that if a girl is small, that means they’re allowed to pick her up, just because they can.”

He grinned at the idea of a teenage Scully, all freckles and pink baby cheeks, glaring defiantly at Navy brats who dared lift her without her consent. He felt strangely fortunate to be allowed the privilege those boys had missed. “But how about me?” he whimpered in a mock puppy voice, trying to look hurt. She smiled flirtatiously and looked into his eyes, hers narrowed in half-serious seduction, and she murmured, “You? I want to climb you like a tree.”

He threw back his head and laughed, then hugged her tightly. Scully smiled against his chest. She loved it when he laughed like this, his face open with delight. To her, it seemed like he was catching the laughter back into his mouth and saving it for yet another joyous occasion. She’d never heard him laugh so openly before, with anyone.

He grabbed the dishtowel and readied himself to begin his task, but she put her hands on her hips, demanding, “How come you always dry?”

The question threw him off. His profiling brain hadn’t realized their duties had developed a pattern, but now that he heard it escape her lips, the reason became clear. And he knew exactly what the answer was.

“I always dried and put away, because Samantha couldn’t reach the cupboards.”

Her hands dropped to her sides, and she studied his face.

“Oh Mulder. I love that.” she stated simply.

“That I was taller than my younger sister?” he answered with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I love it when you tell me things I don’t know about you. I love the man, ‘Mulder’. But I’m also really enjoying getting to know and love the boy, ‘Fox’.”

The words, so sweet, washed over him, and he felt his chest tighten with love for this woman before him, barefoot and beautiful on the tiles of her warm kitchen floor. He basked in the glow her admission had laid upon him and boldly declared, “And I love ‘Scully’, Scully. But tell me something else about ‘Dana’. Not just about her being pissed off, her little feet dangling, while being squeezed by sweaty, pock-faced assholes.”

She dipped her fingers into the sudsy water of the sink, moving it around thoughtfully, rather than reaching for the dishes soaking within. While stirring the water, she also stirred the deep, nebulous waters of her past, looking for a significant anecdote. He could see her reviewing her memories in her head, just like the slides in his office, and when she closed her eyes and smiled fondly, he knew she had chosen the right one.

“I kissed a girl once,” she murmured. “I loved her.”

He felt his eyebrows shoot up in shock, his eyes widening. Ordinarily, he would’ve made some crack or playful innuendo. But her countenance, so often pinched with worry and exhaustion, had softened with whatever image was in her head. Whoever this girl had been, she was giving Scully a glow of soft beauty he had never witnessed before. It suited her. He waited for her to keep going.

“Her name was Catalina, and she was from South America.” Her tongue rolled over the foreign name with perfect pronunciation, despite Mulder’s distinct impression that Scully doesn’t speak any Spanish.

“Her father was a captain too. They lived a couple of streets over, just the two of them. Her mom died while delivering her,” Scully touched her thumb to her lips, remembering. “She was my best friend.”

She stopped to grab a dark green bowl to rinse.

Mulder waited for a couple of seconds and then realised that she was done talking. This piece of information was colossal. He needed to hear more. It was like he was putting together a Scully puzzle and he had suddenly been given a brand-new segment: a piece whose existence he would have previously deemed impossible.

“That’s it, Scully? That’s all you’re going to give me? “ Mulder questioned. There was no way he was going to let this end here. Fuck unravelling government conspiracies. This was the thread that needed pulling.

Scully faltered, realising she’d not only have to elaborate, but that she would have to share more than she’d bargained for. How young and stupid she’d been. How naïve. _This is what relationships are about_ , she reminded herself. _Sharing. Come on, it’s Mulder_.

“My home was always noisy. Bill, Charlie, Melissa…. we all had strong, distinct personalities, and the house was small. We’d drive each other crazy. I don’t know how my mother put up with it. When I went to Cata’s, it was just the two of us, and it gave me the space I needed to just be, without having to prove or defend myself. I could just do my thing, and that’s really important to a thirteen year old girl.”

Scully saw Mulder flinch slightly, and behind the pained flicker in his eyes, she recognised that what stung him was that he would’ve known this fact, had the privilege of this information not been wrenched from him when Samantha was taken. She thinks about tall, gangly Fox and feels certain that he would’ve been a wonderful older brother to Samantha. Perhaps he’d tease her somewhat mercilessly, and would’ve definitely been overprotective when it came to other boys. And although it tugged at her heartstrings to think that Mulder had lost Samantha, it somehow hurt her more to think that Samantha had lost the chance to grow up with a brother who would do anything and everything for his baby sister.

Her older brother Bill, on the other hand, wasn’t the type to serve as champion to his younger siblings. Scully fingered the necklace around her neck nervously at the thought of what she was about to confess to Mulder.

He observed the anxious fidgeting with a discerning eye. “Scully, you don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to share.”

She shook her head and continued, “I spent most of my time with her. We’d talk for hours, and not just about kid’s stuff. About becoming women, our insecurities and the things we loved. We read books, sometimes to each other, and listened to records. She introduced me to classical music, Saint Säens, Chopin, Mahler. Her mother had been a violinist once…”her voice trailed off with the recollection, and stopped altogether with the quietude that comes with an epiphany.

“Come to think of it, Mulder, I think Catalina was my first relationship.”

Mulder closed his eyes, completely taken aback by the surge of jealousy that hit him. This is ridiculous, what’s wrong with him? His profiling brain kicked in, and he tried to make sense of what he knew was a puerile emotion. It was simple, really. In the grand scale of things, if Scully were to compare him to past boyfriends, the gauging would be easy to score. He could win or lose in looks, charm, sex, whatever the categories were. But when it came to this girl, who still stirred strong feelings of worship in Scully, there could never be other categories of comparison or competition. She was one of a kind. She wasn’t a chapter in the life of Dana Scully– she was a different book altogether.

“It sounds like you were very involved with Catalina,” his mouth tripped over the name like a child over a garden hose. “She sounds incredible, and to be completely honest, I might be feeling a little threatened here, Scully. Did you want to climb her like a tree?”

Scully giggled, dried her hands, and turned around to place a finger on Mulder’s stomach. “Impossible to do so, unfortunately. She was an inch shorter than I was.” She then flashed him an impish look and teased, “Well, I guess we could’ve taken turns climbing each other, if it had come to that. I’m sure you’ve seen that done somewhere in your video collection.”

Mulder felt his jaw slacken. He had stared fixedly at something along those lines on his tapes. Suddenly his excellent memory and vivid imagination collided to create a series of scenes he’d watched of girl on girl action, only this time the stars were Scully and a petite brunette moving fluidly and nimbly against each other, enjoying and discovering each other’s body.

Somewhat embarrassed to be picturing her like this, he cleared his throat and asked, “How did you come to kiss her, Scully? Or did she kiss you?”

She grinned and teased, “ The kiss? I’d call it a team effort.” She rubbed his arm, and her mind floated back to that windy Friday in San Diego.

 

_Peter Dunwich, with his low-rise jeans and Pink Floyd shirt, towered over her sexily while she stood at her locker, putting her Biology book into her bag to study over the weekend._

_“Hey, Red.” It sounded more like he was beginning a sentence rather than acknowledging her presence. Scully assumed the only reason a senior would be talking to a freshman was because he knew her brother Bill, so she thought she’d have to pass on a message or something along those lines, as usual. Always the munchkin messenger bird._

_“Yes, Peter?” she asked, her back to him while she closed her locker door, trying to sound unruffled._

_She was basking in the fact that Peter fucking Dunwich was talking to her. He’d been over to the Scully house a couple of times, and he and Bill would lounge around in the yard tossing a football, their shirts off and chests glistening with sweat under the California sun. Melissa would stare out the window shamelessly, while she would peek out surreptitiously every once in a while, later doodling hearts on the back of her notebook and fantasizing about what it would feel like to trace the line of his obliques with her finger. Sometimes, his eyes would catch hers through the glass pane, and she would feel the flush on her neck when he’d wink at her._

_Yet, there was always the wall and the window and the age difference between them, so she wasn’t expecting it when, next to the lockers, he gripped her shoulder and lazily stroked the back of her neck with his thumb, inciting a surprised gasp from her. When her nipples hardened at his touch, it was both exciting and terrifying, as was the recognition that the partition between them seemed to be melting away._

_“I want to talk to you, okay? Go to the chemistry lab in twenty minutes. I have a key.” He turned and walked away, while she stared in disbelief._

_She listened to his steps fade away and rested her suddenly feverish head against the cool metal door, trying to still her galloping heart._

_She spent the next twenty minutes running scenarios in her head. Where she’d walk in, and Peter would turn around and take her hand and whisper that he was in love with her. Or she would walk in and Peter would show her the picnic he had set up for them. Or she would walk in and Peter was holding a puppy with a tag that read “Will you go out with us?” Each daydream was becoming more intricate than the next, and by the time she was making her way to the chemistry room, she was pink with anticipation._

_When she stepped through the door to the lab, two strong hands grabbed her waist and pulled her to the side. She heard the door close. Her heart pounded in the back of her throat, and she heard Peter whisper next to her ear, his breaths shifting her hair and sending goosebumps throughout her body. One of his hands shifted and gripped her budding breast. She quickly felt her excitement shift to apprehension._

_“Wait!” she squeaked._

_“C’mon, Red. You know you want it. I’ve seen you looking at me. I bet you’re not such a nerdy prude in the sack. I bet your pussy is so tight, I want to feel just how wet it can get.”_

_Peter had her pinned against a lab table, her body slightly angled over it while he fondled her and pressed himself against her ass. His grip was like iron and unrelenting, and she felt that he was more turned on by his dominion over her than by her physical presence._

_She’d never heard anyone talk like that, and the vague foreboding she’d been sensing turned to real fear._

_“I’m leaving,” she uttered in a shaky whisper, moving towards the door. She was shocked when he wrenched her ponytail backwards, pulling her back to him._

_“Let me go, asshole,” she hissed, the word feeling alien in her usually immaculate mouth. “Or I’ll tell my brother.”_

_“Go ahead. Tell Bill. I’ll tell him how his pristine little Dana asked me into the chem lab and tried to suck my dick before I had to stop her, because she was too young and my best friend’s little sister. I’ll tell him what a little whore you are. I’ll tell the rest of the school, too.”_

_Scully felt her stomach plummet and saliva pour in her mouth as she tried to control her sudden overwhelming nausea. She pushed past him and ran._

_She ran towards her house, then realised that she couldn’t walk in and look at Bill. She couldn’t face him right now. She turned to Catalina’s instead._

As Scully narrated her story to Mulder, she saw his fists tighten, his mouth set into a thin, bitter line. She heard him mutter “motherfucker” under his breath when she paused. Now as she looked closely at him, she realized that he was having a physical reaction to what she had told him. His chest was heaving and his neck was tensed to the point where veins were starting to show. She didn’t recall ever seeing him so bent out of shape. Scully squeezed his wrist and soothed him, “Mulder, calm down. It looks like you’re going to have a stroke.” Mulder looked down at her with a mixture of grief and indignation.

Reading the feelings he seemed incapable of expressing, she stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his long nose. “It’s fine, Mulder. This was light years ago, ok?”

Mulder shook his head, disallowing her dismissal. “For fuck’s sake Scully, it’s not fine. He could’ve really hurt you.”

“Well, in a sense he did. It was a rather disappointing romantic encounter with my first crush. Made it hard to date later on.” She shrugged with the admission and looked down as she ran her fingers through her hair. Mulder knew that shrug like it was his own nervous habit. It was the physical equivalent to her “I’m fine.”, a perfunctory road to brush off the things that bothered her and weighed her down. Maybe Peter Dunwich had been the first wrong turn that led her to reject vulnerability.

In a soft voice, she mumbled, “You just happened to hear my story, but I don’t know a woman who doesn’t have a similar account to this one. And this doesn’t make it ok, obviously. I’m just saying that I’m fine, now. Honestly.”

Mulder sighed and pulled her into his arms. He rested his chin on her hair while she pressed her cheek against his warm chest and kept talking.

“Anyway. I made it to Cata’s, and she immediately knew something was wrong. I was shaking and crying, and I felt so humiliated, so betrayed. She sat me down and stroked my hair and told me I was safe, and while she held me, I believed her. She was so special, Mulder.”

She looked up at him, and when he gazed back at her, he realised that his previous jolt of jealousy had been ridiculous. Scully’s recognition of her needs and desires probably began with this girlhood relationship. He should light candles for Catalina and thank her, not piss on territory that wasn’t his to claim as his own.

Scully continued, “I’d call her an old soul, if it didn’t sound so ridiculous. We went to the kitchen, and she made me ‘Caldillo de Congrio’ while I drank tea. It’s a traditional Chilean stew, and she told me it could cure anything, any malady, including betrayal and heartbreak. She moved around, reciting Neruda’s ode to this dish in Spanish, and though I didn’t understand a word, it was soothing and beautiful, and I loved how the words swirled in her mouth. When I was older, I looked it up and read it so often I memorized some of it.

and to the table  
come, newly wed  
the flavours  
of land and sea,  
so that with this dish  
you may know heaven”

Scully recited softly and somewhat shyly. Mulder cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the lips. Her openness made him feel brave, and he pushed past his initial embarrassment to whisper against her neck, “Scully, I already know heaven. I don’t need a Chilean fish stew to recognize it.” He felt her squeeze him tight. “Keep going, G-woman. I want to hear all of it.”

“She was such a source of strength,”she said, apparently still in awe of this teenage girl. “I felt so protected, and while she chopped and sliced the ingredients, I couldn’t help but stare at her, Mulder. She was gorgeous. Long, dark brown hair to her waist, high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and her skin was like powdered cinnamon. I’d never noticed how beautiful she was until that moment, and when she fed me that warm stew, I felt renewed, reborn. Like Peter’s touch was completely washed away. ”

“She sat next to me in the kitchen counter and watched me eat, and when I had finished, she touched my cheek with the back of her hand. She asked me how I was holding up, and, I don’t know, it was electric. We leaned in simultaneously and kissed. And it was sweet and soft, a perfect first kiss. When our lips parted, we just sat forehead to forehead, while tears streamed down my face, tears of gratitude, Mulder,” she assured.

“She kissed me better,” her eyes were heavy with unshed tears. And though she usually tried to blink her tears away, to keep them from spilling, this time she allowed them to fall. Mulder moved his thumb to her face to wipe them as soon as she did. He sensed that they were tears not of pain, anger, fear, or frustration, but tears of love. They were the same kind both of them had shed the first time they undressed each other, the first time they made love.

 

Mulder felt his heart tighten at the image of this vulnerable, young Scully, sweet and still so innocent. He realised this was one of the events that transformed her from girl to woman, and was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that she had graced him by sharing it with him.

“Thank you,” he found himself saying, “for telling me that story about ‘Dana’.”

Scully flashed him a toothy grin and laced her fingers with his while she led him to her couch. “I’m really glad I told you. I love that you know this about me now.”

“I want to know everything about you, Scully,” he said simply, “Even the bad.”

Scully considered his last statement. “I know what I just told you sounded like something negative, Mulder. But, you know what? It’s going to sound insane—- but I honestly think that this is my favourite childhood memory. I mean, despite it being such a bad day, I think back on it, and the almost excruciating love it makes me feel. I think of Catalina and of how much she showed me, how much I learned from her. The feeling she inspires in me to this day….it’s overwhelming. She taught me how to love.”

Mulder followed her to the couch and mouthed a silent thank you to the small Spanish-speaking girl who had given Scully her first lesson in partnership, trust, love, and camaraderie.

It wasn’t long until she was asleep against his shoulder, like she had been in so many stakeouts in the past. Gently, as to not wake her, Mulder opened her laptop and looked up the recipe for Caldillo de Congrio. Her birthday was coming up, and he wanted to stir in her all of the benefits that Catalina said the dish provided. He wanted to arouse in her overwhelming love— love for Dana, for Fox, and for their adult selves. He would make a fish stew and buy Chilean sauvignon blanc and kiss her fully on the mouth. He would continue to tie their present to their pasts, and in this way, intertwine their lives more fully together, in the way that she deserved.


	3. Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder tells Scully about his favourite case together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All places mentioned are actually real.
> 
> Let me know if you want to know the song that inspired this fic.

They had fought for over an hour. The exasperation was oozing out of both of them, and by the time they were tired of arguing, they were sitting in silence, decidedly not looking at each other. 

Finally, Scully had relented. She turned to look at him and he met her eye. As if they had practiced the move, they both uttered a “I’m sorry” simultaneously, and smiled in tandem.

 “What?” she asked inquisitively, having caught the upward curve of the corner of his mouth. He smiled a full-fledge smile then, a toothy grin that looked almost adolescent in it’s enthusiasm. “Let me buy you a drink, Scully.”   

“Excuse me?”  

“I think we need to have a drink. Margaritas.”   

Scully grinned a grin of her own. Trust Mulder to forget birthdays but to celebrate the shit out of making peace. “I’d really like that.” she began, “but we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“I saw a sign about 25 minutes ago when I was busy working very hard at not talking to you. We’re getting close to Fargo and I bet you my Knicks t-shirt that there’s a bar on the outskirts.”   Mulder stifled a laugh as he saw Scully lift her right eyebrow with a practiced move. “Why not wait until we’re actually in Fargo?” 

He put on an exaggerated Minnesota accent and imitated Frances MacDormand. “And put up with you saying ‘for Pete’s sake’ continuously and making awful woodchipper jokes?”

  “Mulder , you’re the one who does that.”  

“Scully!” Mulder exclaimed, pretending to be insulted. “After all these years of roadside diners and lousy motel rooms, I think it would be a betrayal to our history together if we didn’t do this at a fun, quirky bar in the middle of nowhere.”   

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the shift in his face, a glow of giddy excitement that he usually saved for UFOs and sexy lingerie. “What is it, Mulder. What are you not telling me?”

  His smile widened as he waited for her reaction while the car pulled up towards a bright light in the distance. Scully exhaled in a combined mock groan and giggle. Two giant aliens stood before a sign that said SPACE ALIENS GRILL AND BAR.

 Mulder parked next to a giant white truck with a bumper sticker that looked identical to the basement poster that read “I Want to Believe”. This one simply read: I Want to Leave, and Mulder thought that if he got this made into a poster and put it next to the one in the office, he’d pretty much have their professional relationship summarised on their wall.   

They stepped out of the car and walked towards the entrance of the kitschy diner “Are you hungry, Scully? I heard their Martian Munchies are to die for.”  
 Scully’s hands flew to her hips in half-hearted indignation “You knew about this place, didn’t you.” she demanded, trying to stifle her laughter.    
Mulder waggled his eyebrows at her while he held the door open. “I sure did, Scully. I’ve always wanted to come here with you. I thought today was as good a day as any.” She smiled to herself as she thought that, despite how well she knew him, in the end he always, always keeps her guessing.   

The restaurant was bustling with activity and smelled of enticing burgers, and Scully found herself salivating at the thought of food. Strained moments with Mulder always took away her appetite and then returned it to her threefold. Despite the over the top, almost garish decor of giant green alien heads and neon lighting, the place was somewhat charming and it reminded her of Mulder’s office decor. Whenever she indulged her imagination, she pictured a young Mulder wearing woollen sweaters covered in constellations and crop circles.  

The bar was brightly lit and over-decorated and it felt like TGI Friday’s and Las Vegas had had an alien interior decorator baby. Mulder led her to a circular booth in the back painted like a UFO. Sliding next to each other on the silver-coloured vinyl seat, Scully burst into a brief but elated giggle. “This place is ridiculous.”

She then turned to Mulder on her right and kissed his arm, below the shoulder. “I like it.”  

The waiter came to take their order and soon enough they had strips of boneless smoked pork between them to share, and Saturn-sized margaritas. Scully had only drank half of it and already she felt the flush of alcohol on her cheeks. She removed her blazer and said lazily. “Sometimes, when I eat with my fingers and drink like this, I wish I still smoked.” Mulder looked stunned, “Scully you smoked?” 

“Scully reached for another piece of Martian Munchie and licked the barbecue sauce off her thumb. “Well yeah, in college. Didn’t you?” she then burst into giggles “When you ate pork with your hands and drank margaritas?” 

“Alright, I’m cutting you off.” he said with a smile, taking her margarita and drinking some of it. 

“Mulder no. I need to finish that, and also, you’re driving and if you have mine you’ll be over the limit.” she slurred slightly, reaching for her drink with tiny hands.     
Mulder took one last gulp, feeling the burn of tequila burning it’s way down to his stomach. These drinks were seriously loaded.  
“You know, Scully, I’ve seen you eat with your hands before. Remember that time in Wisconsin with those vegans? The sheriff recommended a place. You had bbq sauce on the side of your lip and by the time I realised that I shouldn’t, I was already wiping it off your face.”  

Scully looked down at her drink and smiled. Her body warm from the margaritas and the memory “I remember that.” Feeling brave she continued, “My stomach did flips, I wasn’t ready to admit why at the time though.”   For a second she and Mulder smiled shyly at each other. She paused to think and then spoke again. “Anyway, that was not my favourite case.” 

  Mulder gaped at her, his eyes shining with glee and tequila. “You have a favourite case?”

  “Of course, Mulder. They’re usually the ones where I don’t end up covered in some kind of bodily fluid, human or other; or being kidnapped or shot or tied-up or where I ruin another pair of perfectly good shoes.”

Mulder nodded heavily, “So spill. What is it? What’s your favourite case?”  

She closed her eyes briefly and smiled fondly. “It’s when we went to California and investigated the con artist magicians. It wasn’t gruesome, it was interesting. I laughed and there was sunshine.“

  “You also looked damn good in a magician’s hat.” Mulder retorted and she smiled back flirtatiously. Before he could make a leering joke about magic and making things disappear, Scully asked, “What was yours?”  He inhaled deeply and his jaw muscles clenched in a way she recognised as him making a decision. His eyes set with a look of determination, and he leaned forward to murmur, “I’ll give you a clue.”  

He stood up and walked, a little lopsidedly, towards the jukebox. After fumbling for change and squinting at the titles he looked back at her and smiled triumphantly. Scully managed to give him her best “What are you getting at look” before she heard a dancehall beat stream out of the speakers.   Two beats in and she recognised the tune, blushed a deep crimson and hid her intoxicated face in her hands.    
\----------- 

Two years before, when they were friends and not lovers, they’d both been loaned out to Vice for an undercover op. Scully was to get into The Emperor’s Club VIP as an escort and try to retrieve information from the other girls. Mulder was working trying to connect the Wall Street men and senators to the high-scale drug and prostitute ring connected to the escort service. Scully had left to New York two weeks earlier than him for intensive training, although he didn't know of what.

Through the New York bureau, Mulder had successfully infiltrated the group under investigation and was supposed to join them at the Penthouse Executive Club. They were to discuss business there with the men, but more importantly, to meet with Scully. They hadn’t communicated for weeks while she had been doing some investigating on her own end. She was was going to be at the club as well and they were to exchange intel. 

  He had walked into the club and the carpet had felt soft and expensive under his feet. He squinted through the smoke and the shadows, looking for a familiar shade of red. The lights were dim, and glinted off the expensive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings as he strained to find his table.   He saw the thin outline of an impossibly tall woman approach him, wearing a black tailored suit, and nothing underneath the jacket. His eyes trailed down her outfit, where he could see her clavicles, her breastbones and her navel in the space between the fabric and tried to remain nonchalant. Despite his predilection for porn, he found women who looked like this in real life excrutiatingly unnerving. 

Her jet black hair was sleeked into a severe bun and she had smiled welcomingly.   “Mr. Roth?”   

Mulder had stared into her kohl-rimmed eyes, adamant to keep his eyes in place. He had nodded and smiled, and after she introduced herself as the hostess, he allowed himself to be led to a group of men on the far right where he recognised his party of suits.   There was a stage shaped like a capital T, which led forward from the back curtain and reached a single pole for dancing at the end closest to them. To each side of the pole there was another 20 feet of runway. 

He cased the place quickly, skimming through the waitresses and bartenders, still in the search for Scully, but unable to find her. He finally assumed that she was probably going to arrive later, as hired company to pretty up their table. 

As soon as he sat down, a waitress in a dark vinyl skirt and not much else had set a glass of scotch in front of him and wished him a pleasant evening. Mulder joined the small-talk keeping an eye out for his partner, but still couldn’t see her.   He tried to hide his concern by trying to start a conversation about the drug purchase. “So…” he had begun, “ are we ready to do business?” The men had laughed appreciatively. “We enjoy enthusiasm in all of our guests and clients, Mr. Roth, but business is always conducted after the floor show.” 

A smallish man wearing an exquisite italian suit placed his arm loosely around his shoulder and leaned in to whisper quietly but distinctly. “She’s here, don’t worry. I’m your liason. I’ll get her to you.”  

Mulder took a sip of his drink to disguise his nerves and surprise. Where he hell was she? 

He was about to ask the man in the italian suit next to him when the lights changed and the stage was illuminated in a purple haze. The men shifted in knowing anticipation when a dancehall beat came on. The smoke machine let out a sigh of fog that made it hard to see and suddenly the red curtain parted to let through six women wearing the highest black stilettos that Mulder had ever seen. His eyes travelled upwards to see that all of them were wearing men’s work shirts, and through the backlight, their curves were silouhetted as they strutted sultrily down the runway in self-assured strides. 

Mulder smirked and joked, “Are all these girls going to share that pole? Things could get horribly messy.”   

The men roared with laughter and a particularly drunk one motioned to a waitress to get him a shot. Once at the end of the runway the girls stood in a row and danced flirtatiously with each other while they came off the stage down some steps on the either side of the backlit platform. Still unable to find Scully, it was only when she was standing amongst the row of women on the floor in front of him that he realised that she was one of them. His grip on his drink tightened.   Her smile was close lipped and her eyes expressionless. The man who had spoken to him before beckoned her and a top heavy brunette with long wavy hair over. 

The brunette smiled down at both of them and introduced herself. “Mr. Dalston, Mr. Roth, my name is Navy and this is my friend Red.” 

The man in the italian suit, Dalston, smiled back at her and settled comfortably in his chair. “Thank you girls, you know what to do.”  

Mulder froze.     
You know what to do? 

  He felt his stomach tighten as he realised that Scully, "Red," he thought, and Navy had turned to face each other. Scully started undoing Navy’s buttons slowly, her fingers trembling slightly. Navy was smiling at her as she worked and Mulder realised that they had paired them together to highlight each other’s different beauties, but also because they were of a similar height. They looked into each other’s eyes while Scully undressed the beautiful brunette, and Mulder realised that she knew and trusted this woman. 

Scully felt Mulder’s stare burning her and she tried her best to focus on Navy, steadying her breathing, and tried to relax .  When she reached the last button she gently pushed Navy’s shirt back, running her fingers down her arms while doing so, until the shirt dropped to the floor. Underneath, Navy was wearing dark blue lingerie with little ribbons on the sides that could be untied with a single pull of their string. 

Mulder’s breath caught on his throat when he saw her push her long brown hair out of the way and start undressing Scully in the same fashion.   He was not prepared for this.   He knew he couldn’t avert his eyes without raising suspicion, but at the same time, having a gorgeous woman undress his partner in front of him wasn’t amongst the handful of Scully fantasies he had started to allow himself, and the shock of it was written all over his face. He took a deep, shaky breath and thought to himself. "Get your shit together." 

He shifted slightly when the shirt dropped to expose Scully wearing Navy’s same lingerie but in red lace. She stood before him, still looking at Navy, but took a deep breath and turned to look at him. The smoke has cleared and he could see with more detail now. He couldn’t tell what the patterns on the lace were exactly, but what he could tell, and his heart almost stopped with the realisation, was that there was no fabric underneath the lace to cover her. 

Scully was waxed completely bare and he could make out the slit of her entrance.  

He tried to distract himself from the thought, but could only think of the times he had stroked the velvety nose of horses when he was a boy. He didn’t know where to look. He couldn’t catch her eye, and yet he felt that her blue eyes were the only polite place to look. Very reminiscent to his first prom, he tried his hardest not to stare and not to get a hard-on. Nevertheless, he feels his cock stiffen despite himself.

Dalston looked pointedly at Mulder while he gestured for Navy to come over to him. Mulder didn’t know where to disappear to, as this left Scully to walk over towards him. The way the dim light glinted off her body reminded him of that very first night, where she had dropped her robe for him to look at her and tell her that she wasn’t going to die. She had been so trusting that time, and he once again took in her body, forcing his eyes not to stray.  

Now, even though he was the one fully dressed, he felt naked as she leaned towards him, placing a hand against the leather of his chair next to his ear. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that all of the men are receiving similar treatment from girls wearing different coloured lingerie. He would bet money that the other four girls were called Silver, Ebony, Sky, and Lilac or something along those lines.   He tried not to look down at her breasts spilling out of the red lace of her bra as she whispered into his ear, “Listen, we don’t have much time and you’re going to have to let me do what I need to do, ok?” 

Mulder gulped and nodded as she slid her other hand into his hair, gripped it and tilted his head so that he was directly facing her breasts which were inches from his face.  
   
So this was how they were going to communicate. 

He reached for the whiskey next to him and bridged the difference between her face and his with the glass, downing the remaining liquid which burned down his throat similarly to the way that Scully’s body was making his blood boil. He gingerly set the glass aside as she stepped in closer. She wondered what his mouth would taste like if she slid her tongue between his lips. 

He tried, and failed, to not think about how soft her skin must feel between her legs. Scully used her shapely legs to spread his thighs open and stepped into the space between, standing upright again and letting him look up at her. She slid her hands over her hipbone, past her bellybutton and then higher up, over the swell of red lace. She thumbed her nipples delicately and then continued her path towards her face, where she raked a hand into her loose red hair and slid the tip of the thumb of her other hand between her teeth. 

The pulse of the music was intoxicating and suddenly he felt very, very drunk. Mulder felt his fists and his pants tighten as he looked at her in disbelief. She started swaying to the sweltering beat while running her nimble fingers all over her body. She tried to read his face, and not give away her self-consciousness, not give away her cover. Seeing the lust there, she tried to gain confidence by pretending her hands were his hands, touching herself with slow, sultry precision. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed with difficulty and tried to supress a moan, focusing on Mulder instead.   

Mulder didn’t know what to do with himself and tried to surreptitiously wipe the sweat off his hands on the legs of his grey trousers. When he saw Scully lowering herself to a kneeling position between his knees, his hands froze mid-stroke and he felt sweat gather on his chest .   She stroked his thighs while sensually gyrating her upper body to the beat. He clenched at the fabric on his sides to keep himself from grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her towards him. He wanted her to lower her face towards his lap, to lower her lips to his cock, to take him in her mouth. He tried to quiet his panting, but only managed to slow it to ragged breaths.   

She licked her upper lip and began, “The man next to you is our informant, he was the leak. You need to take care that nothing happens to him. I also found which of the girls are willing to talk once we take people to custody. They’ve given me enough evidence.” 

  She tossed her head back, exposing her bare neck to him and he once again had to stop himself from moving forward to lick the hollow above her chest while cupping her breasts.  

“I really think we can pull this off.” she said while lazily playing with his belt buckle. Mulder almost choked at the thought and his eyebrows shot up.  

“What?!”

  “The arrest, Mulder. I think we can pull off the arrest tonight, but we need to find a safe way to make the bust without getting anyone hurt.”  

She noticed one of the men eyeing them suspiciously. She was talking too much and dancing too little, so she shifted positions, twirling so that her back was to him. Mulder stared down at the swell of Scully’s ass wrapped in tiny red lace, like an X-rated Christmas gift.   As she bent over to touch her shin and run her hands up her legs, he squeezed his eyes shut and struggled against the jolts of desire. Not even in his fantasies had he found himself in a position in which his partner was bending over, her beautiful ass facing him like an offering. It would be so easy to tug her underwear to the side and press his lips to her entrance. 

The sweat pooling on his chest began to drip towards his stomach, tickling him on the way down.   Scully turned to look at him over her shoulder and tried her best to scowl and not looked amused by the look on his face. “Hey!” she hissed, “eyes on me.” 

Mulder opened his mouth to offer a choked apology when she backed against his crotch where his arousal pressed hot and hard against her left cheek.   Her back shot upright in surprise at the feeling and his hands automatically grabbed her by the hips to steady her. His fingers burned on her skin and she ached for him to keep touching, for his hands to wander. 

Gathering herself, she plucked his hands off and told him, “You’re not allowed to touch me. You know that.” She quickly shook her head at the bouncer who had started walking in their direction.   

He tried to apologise again, when she spread his legs wider and squirmed against his erection to the beat of the bass line. She could feel his cock twitch towards her, hard like steel and hot as embers. She felt her heartbeat quicken. Despite the thinness of the material of her panties, she wished she could take off his trousers and grind herself against him, bare.   

Scully tried to gather her thoughts but she was intoxicated with the feel of him against her and felt a gush of arousal soak her panties. She closed her eyes, enjoying the forbidden feeling, and increased the friction against her clit by grinding harder against him. When she turned to look at him over her shoulder she saw that his face was clenched into a tight grimace, and realised that Mulder was probably having similar thoughts. Encouraged by the power she felt over him, she tried to surpress a laugh. “Pay attention alien boy.”   

She slowly leaned back so that her back was pressed against his chest, her head lying in the crook of his neck. She could feel his heart pounding against his breastbone into her her shoulder-blade. Mulder struggled to not cup her breast or slide his hand into her panties to touch her, to push his fingers inside her and fuck her with them.   

She whispered into his ear, her breath sending another shot of desire between his legs. “Get the men back to your hotel, I’ll handle the arrest.” 

She rubbed herself against him in slow, tight circles and steadied herself with one hand. She ran her free hand against his cheek and caressed his ear. “And do me a favour. Ask the waitress for a dirty martini. The napkin will have a note from me.”   

She moved up and down the length of his hardness, rocking her hips and her upper body to the beat. She felt her desire dripping from her and his cock pulsating underneath. When she twirled around, he immediately missed the pressure of her body against him. She tugged at the edge of her lace panties, as if she were going to undo the ribbon and unwrap herself to him, or perhaps offer him a look inside, but she simply backed away.   As if communicating telepathically, Navy and Red looked at each other, their dance over, and walked backstage.   

 

What. The fuck. Was that.  

 

Mulder knew that he’d have to take a trip to the bathroom and get rid of his prominent erection before joining the men again. He reached to adjust himself when he noticed that his trousers were wet where Scully had been grinding against him. 

He moaned feverishly when he realised that this was her arousal on him, and not his own. 

When he followed Scully’s instruction and had asked for the dirty martini , the note read simply: "For the sake of our partnership and our friendship, I am asking you to please never mention this case again. I’m serious. Not ever. S.  "

\-------------

Now in the diner, Scully felt Mulder sliding to sit next to her, but she did not raise her head, her face pressed tightly against the palm of her hands in embarrassment. She felt him touch her shoulder and inch his hand down her arm to try and clasp her hand. She sighed and lifted her head, flushed and unable to look at him as she whispered. “Mulder, you promised.”   

Mulder cupped her chin, turning her so that she would face him, his eyes glinting with the memory. “That was before things changed between us, Scully. And you asked! You asked me what my favourite case was, and that one wins by a long run.” He leaned towards her and murmured into the curve of her neck “Do you know how many times I thought about that dance afterwards? For how long? I understood why you had to leave before me to get trained. I think you were a wonderful student. Very gifted.” 

She met his eyes then, dark and unreadable. She bit her lower lip and asked slowly. “You liked that?  " Mulder chuckled softly. “Are you kidding, Scully? You in red lace giving me a lap dance has fueled a wide array of fantasies, for many, many years, and in countless motel rooms while you were sleeping in the adjoining room.”

She sucked in her breath with the admission and pressed her body closer to him. “You’re right Mulder, I did learn a lot that week.” she smiled to herself, raising her eyes to stare at him, unblinkingly.  

His breath caught in his throat and he could barely utter his next words. He clumsily stuttered, “So what else did they teach you there?”  

She quirked an eyebrow and gave him a hint of a smile. When she spoke, she put on her best Minnesota accent and said softly, “Take us to Fargo, Mulder. I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”  

He payed the waiter and pulled her out of there as if the place was on fire. Once in the car, Mulder sped out into the highway dangerously fast, making her laugh. “Slow down, cowboy. We’ll get there eventually.” 

He looked at her incredulously and in a hoarse voice muttered, “Not nearly fast enough, Scully. I’m dying here.”   Her hand squeezed his thigh and she twisted her body to face him. “Then let me give you a little something for the road. Just promise you’ll keep your eyes on it.” 

  “Scully…” he whispered, with a mixture of awe and warning.

  “Mulder, just shut up and drive.” she murmured, leaning towards his lap and unbuttoning his jeans. Mulder’s eyes widened as he clutched the steering wheel for dear life and tried not to look down. He carefully manoeuvred his feet to help her pull his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, and thanked the heavens that the highway was deserted. 

She took him firmly in her hand and once again he was shocked at how quickly she could get him rock hard with nothing but coy insinuation. She squeezed his base and stroked him a couple of times before he felt her hot breath just above the head. 

“Scully.” he pleaded and then the exhale of her giggle sent new shooting waves of pleasure down towards his groin. Before he could say another word, her lush lips had wrapped around him, and she took him all the way in her mouth to the base of him.   

“Shit” he exclaimed, as the car swerved slightly and he quickly steadied himself and the car along with him. Meanwhile, she rose up the length of him again, twirling her tongue around his head, and used her hand to stroke him while she suckled the tip of him hungrily. Mulder risked a glance down to look at her and met her eyes as she looked up sideways to watch his face and smiled.   She then focused her attention back to the job at hand and cupped his balls with practiced skill. She fondled him as she fucked him with her mouth and tongue, his tip touching the back of her throat, and he couldn’t help but take one hand off the wheel to clutch at her hair and guide her. She moaned against his throbbing erection and the vibration of it made him grunt with lust. 

“Fuck, Scully. Fuck.” he gasped as she increased the speed and pressure.  
The wet sound of his dick in her mouth and her low-pitched little hums drove him steadily towards the edge. He uttered a strangled cry when he came, struggling to keep his eyes open and not kill them both, and throughout his explosion, he felt Scully riding his orgasm with her tongue, lapping him clean. He looked down at her again and saw her swallow and grin, her lips glistening and wet with him, and he thought he would come once more, simply at the sight. 

She tugged his pants and boxers back up, and he carefully shifted his hips again to help her. As she zipped him up, she pecked him on the cheek, and he tried to still his heart so he could speak to her. “You didn’t learn that when you were training in New York, did you?” Scully smiled and rolled her head in slow circles while closing her eyes. “No, Mulder. Not that.”

“Good.” he chortled and tossed her a fond grin. “But you learned other moves?”

She smiled leisurely and with a contented sigh, replied “I did, actually, lot’s more. I’ll show you later.”  

“I can’t wait.” he acknowledged honestly.  

She took his hand and slid it under her skirt so he could feel her. He inhaled sharply when he realised she was drenched all the way through. When she pulled his hand away, his fingers were soaked and sticky with her arousal.

“I can’t wait much longer either, Mulder. Take me to Fargo.” 

  He drove over the speed limit the whole way there, while she drew blazing circles on his thigh.  


End file.
